Tell Me What the Rain Means
by cleartempest
Summary: TYL 5927. Gokudera's POV on Tsuna's death, his last words. Gokudera centric.


Ha…so far I've only written smut. So I was all, "WHY AM I SO PERVERTED???" XX So this is a change for me. XD (I will not stop writing pron, though…)

I like Gokudera, he is my favorite 'lots of screen time' character, and OMG, so many things about him are just TRAGIC. Hokay, anyways…

Disclaimer: WTH?! I DO NOT OWN!

Warning: blood, death, angst (?)

………………………………

He had often woken in the middle of the night, mid laugh, to the voice of his mother and the sound of her piano.

He would quietly continue laughing, just to preserve the warmth of mirth on his cheeks. And he would hug his knees to his chest, and pretend he was holding her, just to preserve the impression of her that his dream had granted him.

He would whisper, "Mamma?" And the fast fading stigma of his memory would glow with her smile. And he would hear, _My dear Hayato._ And his lips, drawn in an involuntary smile at hearing her voice again, would become salty with tears. "Mamma," he would try again. And he would hold on to the memory of his dream so carefully.

But, even without breathing on them, he could feel them crumble.

"Mamma," he would whisper again, afraid to breathe too hard, "Mamma," over and over and over again, until her voice, her laugh, and her smile faded completely. And he was left with only the indistinct sounds of the night, feeling cold again.

'My dear Hayato." His father had also said. And he would be thrilled when he could smell the cigar smoke and gunpowder on his father's suit when he returned his hugs. He had always believed his father had meant it.

He would wish he had remembered more about his mother, though, he had been perfectly content with the bits and pieces he still had. But he never realized just how much he wanted _more_ until he had heard the hushed voice of a maid, and it was amazing how a maid he never really knew could twist his life so severely, "… boss had taken care of that boy's mother. Whore, had it coming." And he had come to realize why they all lowered their eyes in disgust whenever they noticed him.

He had kicked off the gleaming halls of the castle and _ran_, the startled maids frozen behind him.

He ran past the lavish garden, out the iron wrought gates, down the surrounding gritty road. He had felt his lungs heave and burn and his legs shake and whine sorely in protest. But he carried himself ahead, focused on a golden cloud in the sunset, wanting so much to run to that cloud. He picked up his pace even more, wanting so much the feeling of momentum that would get him to ascend.

Gokudera still remembers what happened after wards. How he had awakened in Doctor's Shamal's room back in his father's castle. He remembers seeing just how much his father _didn't_ care for him, just how much _no one_ cared for him. And he wished his mother was still alive so he could cry and just _hold_ her, and she would tell him that she loved him, that everything was going to turn out fine. And he had never felt more clearly that it _wasn't_. It was then when he realized he _needed_ a clearer memory of her, for his sake, because for the first time in his life, he had felt completely alone.

And now, in an obscure and dark alleyway fifteen years later …

"G-Gokudera…"

His heart reels at the thought.

"Tenth! Please don't speak!" Gokudera tears off his suit, presses it against the hole in Tsuna's chest. A hole he is too afraid to even glance at. He fights back tears of frustration, fear, panic. The tenth does not need to see him cry, he has failed, _failed_, and when it really mattered. Far away, he hears Yamamoto hurriedly call their private emergency doctor over his cell phone. Even farther away, he hears metal against bone under flesh, Hibari's metal.

Tsuna winces at the pressure of the suit. "No, Gokude-"

"Don't talk! Please, tenth." Gokudera curses to himself for letting his voice crack. To his horror, he feels hot moisture flows down the length of his cheek. "Please…" he is shaking now, the lump in his throat unbearable, "Tenth…" And he wishes so hard that he had shielded the Tenth, or obliterated the _four-eyed snake_ when he had a chance. Why did Tsuna give that bastard a chance? Gokudera feels a pang of guilt run through him. How _dare_ he think Tsuna is too trusting? Gokudera hears his sob come out as a gasp. He'd have died years ago, if Tsuna wasn't this trusting, blown to red spray at his own detonation.

"Gokudera-kun." Tsuna gasps, "Please listen to me." And Gokudera sees Tsuna fighting to keep his eyes open, and he wants to tell Tsuna to stop talking, that they have been through so much worse, to hang on, and to _please_ stay with him. Gokudera frantically wipes his face with his grimy hand, not wanting tears to fall on his precious Tenth. He wants to replay this whole evening, wants another chance to protect Tsuna. He has failed as a right hand man, he thinks again, and even if he was not in such a position, he has failed as a man who owes his life to his best friend.

Tsuna's places his hands over his. They are shaking, slippery and sticky with blood, and they are distressingly cold.

And yet they burn with intention, and affection, and _Tsuna_. Gokudera wonders inappropriately what Tsuna's dying wish is now. He chokes back a sob and swallows painfully, placing his free hand over Tsuna's, squeezing them. He doesn't want Tsuna to continue, because he knows these will be his last words, and because he knows Tsuna will let go after he speaks. "Tenth, please…" And he isn't sure how to finish.

Tsuna pants, "Don't keep your mind here," he winces, "we are not done yet..."

"That is because you will live through this!" Gokudera bites back a frustrated sob. "You will, tenth." He blinks hard to clear his blurring vision. "Tenth…" Tsuna's lips are so pale, the blood on them so dark.

"Don't think about what we should have done." Tsuna inhales shakily, and Gokudera hears the terrible gurgling noise of blood obstructing Tsuna's breath. He feels his stomach churn. Tsuna presses on, "Because…we'll never know that..." The tenth winces again, and the lump in Gokudera's throat becomes excruciating.

"Go on." He whispers, as steadily as he could.

Tsuna inhales thickly again, "Because what is done is done. Promise..." He coughs softly, "Promise me that you won't do anything...that would make me sad."

That is Tsuna's last request. Gokudera's heart pounds, throbs, "Tenth..." He slips his hand behind Tsuna's neck and gently lifts him onto his lap, with all the softness he feels for this man. He feels warm blood pour and pool in the front of his pants, and spread on the front of his shirt. Tsuna has lost so much blood. He wills his breath to steady so the Tenth will find his embrace comfortable -- he just wants Tsuna to feel happy, to feel completely at ease. "I-I promise." He holds him close, to preserve the reality of a living wish that his life had granted him.

Tsuna lets out a slow breath, his voice is barely audible, "Gokudera-kun...so warm..."

Gokudera places his hand on Tsuna's cheek, watching those rare eyes close slowly. "Tsuna." He whispers, and leans his face forward. He kisses Tsuna's forehead softly, lingering, and the soft sigh from Tsuna is the only indication the man is still alive.

When Gokudera feels Tsuna's grasp on his hand weaken and slip off, he holds Tsuna even closer. "Tenth," he says, "Tsuna." He buries his face into his neck. It is quiet, he doesn't feel a pulse against his cheek, but it is still warm. "Tsuna," he says again, "Tsuna." And the man's image does not fade, nor does his voice, his laugh, his smile. And Gokudera wishes he never has to let go.

When Tsuna is covered and lifted into the car, Gokudera cannot suppress that same feeling he once had, so many years ago. And he feels cold. He shudders, refusing to cry in front of Yamamoto and Hibari. He feels a surge of anger rise in him, fuming at the wholly unreadable expressions on their faces. He reaches for a cigarette in his shirt pocket, and realizes the paper box is still slippery with Tsuna's blood. And he feels fresh unwanted pain well in his chest. He bites his lip, feels hot and _unwanted_ moisture trail down his cheek again. _Shit._ He frantically pulls out a stick and moves to light it. He chokes on the smoke. _Shit_. He almost cries out, throws the lit cigarette on the bloody asphalt and drops to his knees. He palms come out in front of him, bloodied and shaking. And he breathes, deep, he wants to run.

"Gokudera…" He cringes at Yamamoto's voice. He doesn't venture to speak, uncertain how stable his voice will sound. He places a grimy hand against the equally soiled ground and pushes himself up, running into the cold dark of the night.

He runs, and he knows he is hindered by his heaving sobs but, he doesn't want to stop. Not even when he can no longer draw breath, when his lungs burn, when his heart thuds painfully, and when he needs all his willpower to keep his legs moving.

And he does cry out when Yamamoto catches up with him. He throws the other man's grip off his shoulder and drops to the ground, panting heavily. He embraces himself, shuddering, feels unrestrained dampness run down his face, and he is grateful that Yamamoto is not talking. "It…it happened so quickly." He thinks of the eyes he will never see again, "And I…it's my fault."

"It's not your fault." Yamamoto replies, voice unwavering.

"Fuck you!" Gokudera springs up and fists Yamamoto's irritatingly pristine suit, rusting the white dress shirt with crusted blood. "Fuck you! What the fuck do you know? You don't understand. I…" Gokudera lets his head fall forward, "I couldn't protect him."

He feels Yamamoto take his wrists gently, "And why wouldn't I understand that?"

Gokudera breathes shakily. _Because Tsuna saved my life, didn't judge me, didn't see me as a goddamned illegitimate half-breed, because Tsuna meant the world to ME._ Gokudera couldn't say it. Not to Yamamoto, not to anyone. _Because protecting him was the reason I lived. Because he was the only thing I cared about in a long time_. _And now he is gone_. He tears his hands away and clenches his fists. _And I loved him, so much._ _What do I have now?_ And the full impact of the realization stuns him. And the adrenaline, the grief, the desperation -- all pause, and he feels a quiet awareness swell in him. He turns on his heel and walks away from Yamamoto. "You…wouldn't understand," he repeats. "I'm walking back."

Yamamoto makes a patient noise. "Gokudera, don't do anything reck-"

"I already promised him." Gokudera interrupts. He wouldn't do anything reckless because the Tenth didn't want him to and he would honor his final command. That is all. He stops walking and stands still, eyes lowering to the dark ground. The black asphalt is obscured by the night, yet, it feels so rigid against the bottom of his shoes, and he inwardly cringes at how hard it must have felt to Tsuna when he fell to the ground with that stomach-turning thud.

"What did you promise him?"

Gokudera huffs, and continues walking toward the hotel he is staying at. He hears Yamamoto walk off, taking another route.

The blood bunches on his shirt, drying. It feels hard against his chest. It is some ridiculous hour. And he thinks no person in his or her right mind would be out wandering at said hour. So it isn't too much to think no one will see him, it's too dark anyways. He leans against the hard and grimy wall of the alleyway, sinks to his knees. And he turns his face up to the ever encompassing sky.

He feels his breath catch at how vast the dark stretch above him is. It makes him feel so insignificant, that in the grand scheme of things, he is just another man, who is covered in the blood of someone he had adored, sitting behind a nameless store, thinking how odd this hour of the day is, and looking up.

He had not seen his mother die in front of his eyes. And he wonders which is harder, holding one's beloved when his last words are about to ghost from his lips, or finding out so many years later that the cause of her death was a disillusioning lie.

He feels moisture fall on the tip of his nose, his bottom lip, and the sky opens up. He shuts his eyes. The sky is too broad, with all of the expansive wonder of Tsuna's eyes and none of their warmth.

He feels a heartbreakingly warm raindrop on one of his closed eyes. He wonders if Tsuna is crying.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "if I am making you sad."

…………………..

This probably didn't happen? And this was a bit rushed, but I wanted to write it like this! Blame TYL Gokudera's expression when he sees younger (living) Tsuna come out of the coffin. So saaad. TT


End file.
